Only A Kiss
by chocolatemuffin
Summary: An alternative set of events taking place after the Ultimate War. Shows how the X-Men deal with the Professor and Scott's absences, and one team members action. Also, a bit of character development for the team in general. Please read and review.
1. On The Run

**Please note- All characters belong to Marvel except Catherine (Lioness) and Alex (Prophecy). I do not make any money from this, I merely do it to brighten up my dull life, so please don't sue. This is going to be a series, based on an alternative set of events that take place after the Ultimate War, concentrated on my character, Lioness. Not really a spoiler if you haven't read them. You should know that Cyclops is lost in the Savage Land, presumed dead. That's all. Please review, this is only the second thing that I've put up, and I need reviews so that I know whether to curl up and die or not. Thankies, and sorry for the long intro. Just read and see what you think. **

**Oh, and it's R rated because of later stuff, this chapter is pretty safe, but it's going to progress.**

On The Run

Catherine straightened out her claws. It only hurt slightly as they slid slowly from her finger tips. They weren't like Logan's. They were like a cat's. They matched the fluffy ears that protruded from the top of her head instead of the sides, and the strange tail that forced her to make holes in all of her jeans. She didn't like it, but she'd learnt to deal with it.

She studied each sharpened tip. Not a dent.

She was sitting in the spare bedroom. She could hear the TV blazing in the other room. Henry and Kitty were arguing. She could hear every word, a benefit of her increased senses. The room was now in darkness, as she hadn't bothered to turn the light on as the sun set. She had been in there the whole day. She wanted to leave with the others, go and at least try and help. But no. Logan, Piotr and Henry had all insisted that she stayed.

The worst thing was that she knew that it was out of pity. Ever since the Savage land fiasco she had been depressed. Well, who wouldn't? If your best friend gets left behind in the middle of nowhere you can't possibly be expected to go on like nothing has happened. Especially if you knew that he was still alive.

She thought of Scott now. How he had taken her under his wing. He never properly befriended any of the team. He was nice to them, but not close. But he had found a friend in her, somebody who understood him.

She remembered a hazy afternoon when she had been alone, whilst Alex talked to Bobby via their psychic connection. Scott had been supposed to take Jean out, but he saw her alone. Just sitting there. She heard the door slam and his car leave the driveway. She thought he was gone. She definitely hadn't expected him to return half an hour later with Chinese takeout for two and a big tub of ice cream, a copy of 'Ferris Bueller's Day Off' tucked under his arm. She had gasped out of surprise, as his face lit up with a beatific smile.

When she asked what happened to Jean, he had just shrugged and replied "She went to some club with Ororo,"

"Jean? Are you okay?" Kitty's words brought her back from her memories. She pricked her ears up, ready to listen to the conversation in the living room. Her claws retracted back into her finger tips, the skin healing quickly over the cuts.

"Yeah. Yeah, of course I am," Catherine had heard enough. She knew that whatever followed would be some poor 'please feel sorry for me' spluttering on Jean's part. She groaned, and decided that she may as well go to sleep.

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"Is she ok?" Catherine could hear muffled voices. It had a hint of Russian.

"I don't know, she's been in that room all day, I think she's asleep,"

Catherine raised her head and moved her legs off of the bed. She stood up and walked slowly to the door, searching for the door handle and opening it slowly.

She emerged from the room, her hair slightly messy. Her bright pink pyjamas, made of silk with embroidery, contrasted with her pale face. It was hard to get a tan when you spent your days locked up.

Piotr, Logan, Henry and Ororo stood in the corridor, heads turned towards her.

"I'm fine," she said, before they could comment.

"Catherine, it's understandable that you're upset, we all know that you were very close to Scott, you just have to-" She turned to Ororo suddenly. A glare adorned her defined features. Eyes that seemed to contain every natural colour flicked over her team mates from beneath long, thick, jet-black eyelashes.

"You don't know _anything_. Just stop tip-toeing around me like I'm Jean, because I'm not," she replied fiercely.

Ororo swallowed her words, taken aback. Catherine was taking it badly, she knew. She had been used to a harsh life, stealing cars had only been the tip of the iceberg. She wondered for a moment if this could be true of Catherine, but no. Senator's daughters didn't have to live on the streets. She glanced at the boys. Piotr felt sorry for her, she could see it from the way his eyebrows raised and moved towards each other. Henry was annoyed, although felt guilty - that was an easy thing to understand. He was trying to keep an angry face, but every so often it slipped away into a sympathetic gasp. Logan was the only one who stood tall. His arms folded across his chest, a defiant eyebrow raised in silent question. His legs were set statically in line with his shoulders.

Catherine avoided his stare, turning to look behind her. She tried to make it look like it was out of shyness in her state of depression, yet she could feel his eyes boring into her. She knew that he knew her avoidance was out of shame. Shame for what? Acting as she had around Scott, she guessed. She knew that he was dating Jean, yet still she persisted. Logan knew. She could tell. His smirking every time she asked Scott for something was only one of the many tell-tale signs.

Henry walked away, heading for the kitchen. Ororo watched as he turned, wondering how all this distance had come between them. She knew, of course. But sometimes it just felt…felt like they should never have broken up. She started to follow Henry to the kitchen, then stopped at the last minute, turning to enter the living room. Chickened out again.

Catherine lifted her gaze from the floor, looking up at Piotr. If she couldn't get respect, then at least she could get sympathy. By the time their eyes met, hers were tear-filled.

"I'm so scared," she said quietly to him, her voice just louder than a whisper. Logan rolled his eyes as Piotr crouched over suddenly and gripped Catherine in a hug. She could see him out of the corner of her eye. His look so scathing. She didn't want to know. She didn't need that. She closed her eyes and buried her face into the folds of fabric on Piotr's jacket shoulder. Her arms wrapped around his neck.

"It's ok," Piotr said soothingly into her hair. His strong body could support this. Her. He could help, and he would. He wasn't just the token Russian guy. He was a person. He played the guitar, he beat Scott and Catherine at pool with Kitty. He thought of how weak she was now. A girl who could rip a piece of adamantium apart with her bare hands. She was even stronger than him, and yet now here she was, crying into his shoulder. Clinging for support, love perhaps. "It's alright,"

Logan smirked. He wondered what Scott would think of this elaborate display of affection. People always assumed that he should be treated differently, that he had this terrible dark past that tore at his inner being. Well, he did, but he didn't really mind it. He was just a normal guy, really. And, apparently, his name was Jim Howlett. He remembered the look on Captain America's face when he had stated that. His trademark smirk disappeared. His claws came out.

Catherine jerked her head up suddenly. Piotr loosened his grip slightly, turning to follow Catherine's stare.

Logan's eyes were wild, his smile deadly. It seemed as though a flame danced inside his skull. His stance was one of attack, legs parted in a cowboy swagger, arms hanging loosely by his sides, and yet ready to be pulled up at any moment. And then, almost as suddenly as it had come, the look left him. His eyes were still not his though. They were empty, sorrowful. His claws slid slowly back into his knuckles. Painfully. His head was bowed now, bent over and staring at the floor, although not actually seeing it.

His head jerked up suddenly, "Did I scare ya?" he asked, smirking once more. Piotr laughed a little. Catherine smiled slightly, before looking up at Piotr.

Logan continued to smirk, before walking away to watch the host family's husband have a midnight snack and then blame it on the son.

"Do you want something to eat?" Piotr asked her, a look of great care coming over his face. This brought back a faint recollection of her hunger to Catherine. She had been too depressed all day to eat, but she guessed that she had to eat something, or they would all get worried. She nodded gently.

"OK, I'll go make you something," he replied, motioning for her to follow him. They entered the kitchen, and she sat down at the breakfast bar, watching boredly as he rooted around in the various cupboards. Trying not to cry as she thought of how Scott had done the exact same thing, only a few months ago. She snapped herself out of it. She wasn't a little kid any more. She was the youngest member of the team, and they gave her enough grief for that.

"Here, vegetarian-cat friendly food," Piotr said, passing her a plate of pasta. She smiled briefly, and began to eat.

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Catherine attempted to roll over again. Then realised that she couldn't. Piotr had taken it upon himself to comfort her. For that reason, and for that reason alone (she hoped), they were sharing the double bed in one of this family's spare rooms. He was so tall, and she quite short. She bundled up neatly in a big bear hug. The only problem was that she couldn't move, and she was beginning to overheat.

The warm, muscled arms should have been a comfort to her. They would have if they were Scott's. But then they would have been accompanied by his bristly chin, resting on her head. She would have snuggled into them, a sleepy smile on her face. Piotr's arms were just annoying. They were ok, but no comfort. She liked Piotr, she had often wondered what would happen if she made a move. But no, whenever she started to seriously consider it, Scott would come along and do something to change her mind. She considered the idea that she may love him. It was strange. She wriggled out from Piotr's grasp. He moaned slightly, rolling over.

She walked slowly out. Her bare feet padding slowly across the wooden floor. She was a master at stealth. She walked past where Alex and Kitty slept by the door, wrapped up in blankets to prevent them from losing heat to the floor.

She was there, at the plain white door. Her eyes were adjusting, and as each second past she saw the room in more detail.

She reached forward and opened the door. The hall was empty, pitch black. Except…except for a vague light. It seemed to be coming from the kitchen.

'Probably the father,' she thought to herself, shrugging. She decided that she would pay a little visit to him. See if she could make him tell her some secrets, sub-consciously of course. It would be the only thrill she got.

But as she got closer to the kitchen, something didn't seem right. There was a stench of cigars, dowsed with beer. It was sweaty, too. To be frank, whoever was in there stank. She wrinkled her nose, approaching slowly. Perhaps one of the family members had been out, she wasn't sure. She reached for the door handle, turning it slowly. She opened the door, a crack of warm light and smoke spilling out.

She stepped into the room, squinting to see who it was. A flash of metal and she knew.

"Hello Logan," she said.


	2. Mutual Hatred

Mutual Hatred

The smoky silhouette lifted it's head. Catherine watched. She blinked, trying to keep the smoke from her eyes. It did no good, and her eyes began to water.

Logan took a long drag from his cigar, before speaking.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, rudely. Even as he spoke Catherine could smell the beer on his breath. It disgusted her, made her wish that she could stop him. She knew that his body would heal, but it just didn't seem worth dirtying it in this way.

"_I said,_ what are you doing here?" he asked again. Louder this time. Her silence made him uneasy, like she was judging him. He waited for her to answer, glaring at her through the haze.

"I couldn't sleep," she said eventually. A lame excuse, but it was true. "Why are you up?" she asked.

"Same reason I'm up every night - can't sleep so I get pissed,"

She approached the table, sitting down at it. He was in front of her. The stench of cheap beer was stronger now. It swirled up into her nostrils, violating them and making her choke.

Logan seemed to realise that she wasn't going to leave. He reached behind him for a can of beer, chucking it at her. She thanked her quick reflexes and caught it. She cracked the lid open and took a gulp. She drew away, coughing. It was strong.

"Can't handle it?" he asked, she couldn't see him but she could hear his smirk. She narrowed her eyes, knocking her head back and taking another drink. It was disgusting, she didn't know why she was doing it. She really needed Scott. She needed somebody to be there for her, tell her that no matter what she did they'd be there. Somebody who didn't care that she was bad.

She downed the last drop and chucked the can behind her, reaching for a second.

"Easy, tiger," Logan said, despite his amusement at this, there was a tone of cautiousness in his voice.

"It's Lioness," she replied, finishing the can in one go this time. She chucked it over her shoulder, to join the other. She reached for a new can, but Logan grabbed her wrists.

"That's enough," he said, so serious that it scared her for a moment. She struggled against his grip, but he had raised her arms above her head. She was weak from the alcohol anyway.

The smoke was starting to clear, and as she studied Logan's face she got the feeling that he…cared?

"Let go of me," she said. She had the strength to twist his arms into pretzels, but she couldn't muster her powers right now.

"I shouldn't have given you a drink. We all know how badly you're taking Scott's…" and here he thought for a moment. Because he knew, he knew what had happened, a slip of the hand and… "absence," yes, safe "But that isn't a reason for you to become as screwed up as me,"

At this she twisted away, out of his grip. Her eyes flashed murder.

"Fuck you!" she cried. Logan watched her in horror. He was surprised that nobody had woken up.

"How do you know that word?" he asked, genuinely confused. However, this only fed her aggravation.

"I've known _that_ word since I was 10! And how can you think that this is all down to Scott? You're such an idiot!" she cried.

He stood across from her, and suddenly he realised that this Senator's daughter had bad memories that rivalled his own.

"What did they do to you?" he asked after a while, his voice was quiet. Although he hadn't specified, they both knew what he was talking about. Weapon X. It had been shut down, no more Wraith. But the scars would always remain.

Silence. Perhaps it was painful, he could understand. He looked at her, catching her eye. She looked away, ashamed.

"Apart from the ageing? And the extra body parts?" she asked him eventually. Losing two years of your natural life was something that no teenager dreamed to have. Claws, cat ears and a tail were almost as bad.

Logan nodded, smiling inwardly for some reason that he couldn't quite fathom. But he sensed her depression and tried to think of the worse case - but no, surely Wraith wasn't that bad, was he? But now doubt invaded Logan's mind as he realised what it was.

Perhaps the reason that he even understood what she said when she opened her mouth and whispered those three words was because in his heart he already knew.

"He raped me."

Logan didn't know what to do, but some instinct told him to hug her. She collapsed slightly, depending on him to hold her up. He held her and together they slowly sunk to the floor, backs leaning against the wall. It wasn't like hugging Piotr, that had felt…odd. Hugging Logan was comforting, and although it wasn't quite Scott - it would do for now.

She didn't care about the overpowering stench of beer and cigars any more, didn't even question Logan as to why his clothes stank of Jean. Just sat there in his embrace. Safe. Logan accepted her. He didn't think any less of her for what had happened.

Now that she had got that first sentence out though, she couldn't help but continue. All this time she had never told a soul. The telepaths couldn't read her mind because of her animal-like thoughts, which swirled around in no particular order. And suddenly, it all came rushing out, quickly. Logan struggled to keep up with her.

"I should have fought him, I know I should have. I tried to, at first. But then he threatened me. He said that if I didn't let him then - then he'd kill Scott. He never liked Scott, any excuse I guess.

"It happened right after they aged me. They separated me from Alex and took me off to this room. I don't know how long it was that they kept me there…it seemed like forever," she paused. Logan looked at her, expectantly.

She shook her head in disbelief. Looking back, it all seemed so surreal.

"It was so fucked up," she said "He just came in and demanded it. He had a wife and kids," she said, turning to Logan with a confused smile "And he was willing to give it up for a dumb little mutie."

"He was like that, he didn't ever really care about anyone, just himself," Logan said, his voice somewhat understanding. Well, if anyone did - it was him. They sat in a comfortable silence.

"I think he was trying to heal that scar," Catherine said suddenly. Logan looked at her, curiously. "The scar you gave him. He must have read the test results to see what he could use me for, and then he found out about the whole being-able-to-heal-other-people thing. I guess he forgot to read the part about me controlling it,"

Logan smiled. He became aware of his claws, sticking under his skin, lengths of adamantium-covered bone.

"You got the claws too, now," he said, reaching for her hand. She slowly released her own. In comparison with Logan's, they seemed weak. Perhaps this was a good thing, it gave her the element of surprise for when she ripped her enemy's face off.

She looked up at him. For the first time in a long while she was tired. Overwhelmingly tired. She still felt depressed, yet something about Logan's strength seemed to calm her. She rested her head gently on his shoulder, and closed her eyes to sleep.

He adjusted his arms to support her, hugging her. He gently stroked her hair, calming her into sleep.

Logan looked at the cat-girl who rested in his arms. For a brief moment he wondered - what if he had been wasting his time with Jean?


End file.
